Holiday
by boredsvunut
Summary: A holidaythemed JO fic, written back in December. Complete.


(Disclaimer: Not mine. It all belongs to the good folks at NBC.)

(Note: Before someone asks me - I am not trying to spam ff net. It might seem like I am - but I just have a backlog of fics that were never posted to this account.)

The beam of her flashlight bobs, a few feet off. "Merry fucking Christmas, John," she grumbles. I decide to ignore her grumbling - she hasn't had coffee in a while and she glances up, looking at me in the dark of the squad room. "Sorry. Maybe I should have said 'Happy fucking holidays', instead."

I can't help but shake my head at her odd turn towards humor. "I'm not complaining... who is?"

She looks up at me and grins in the flow of her flashlight. "Nice way to spend this night, I tell you. This is exactly where I planned to be,"

"Do I detect some sarcasm, Detective Benson?"

She runs her fingers through her hair's new length and sighs, shaking her head. "Do you think this is fun or something, John?"

"Being stuck in a police precinct without power with you? When most of the city has no power? No. But I know where I'd like to be right now, with you."

She groans, balls up a piece of paper, throwing it in my direction with surprisingly good aim in the dark and falls forward onto her desk, her flashlight's beam dropping to turn it's glow on the floor. "That was _bad_, John."

"It was. I'm sorry."

She lifts her head and sits up straight in her chair for a minute before leaning back in it. "Christmas Eve... You and I stuck in here, with no power. The kids are probably all disappointed tonight," she says, shaking her head. "No tree lights on - nothing like that." She looks around from her reclined position in the office chair. "Where'd Cragen go?"

"Downstairs to talk to the Lieutenant on shift tonight - why?"

"I was going to ask him if he'd crack open that bottle of vodka for us," she says, idly.

"Liv - you're on duty. We're on duty. He's on duty," I say, shaking my head at her.

She rolls her eyes. "Kidding, John. Kidding," she says, dryly, but it wasn't obvious from her tone in the earlier comment.

"You've got somewhere to be, don't you?" I ask, curious. She seems almost upset. Disappointed, somehow.

"Not in that, I don't," she answers, gesturing to the blizzard that can be seen through the window. The snow's falling quite rapidly and the winds are whipping it around, reducing visibility to almost nothing.

"True. And on every night like this, you've got idiots for drivers out there," I comment, glancing at the storm outside again. "_Did_ you have plans or something?"

"No, not really," she admits, toying with a pen. "But I didn't plan to spend Christmas Eve here, that's for sure. Especially not in the dark."

"Decorate your place?" I ask, casually. The last time I was in the apartment she calls home - it's barely more than a shoebox, just like mine - she hadn't.

"No. No time. No point," she answers. "I'm never home to see it."

I shake my head, at that answer. She does have a perfectly valid point, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. "Be glad we haven't caught anything," I say, gently, trying to lighten the mood a little. "We probably wouldn't be able to get out of the parking lot."

She grins and shakes her head, despite herself. "Do you think we'll be out of here before morning?"

"Probably not," I answer, truthfully. "Sometimes, this makes me miss Baltimore - we didn't get nearly as much snow."

Olivia glances out of the window again and makes a face. "Urgh. Is it just me or is it as cold in here as it is outside?"

"Heat went when the power went - it's cold in here," another voice, the one belonging to Cragen cuts into the conversation, as he makes his way back into the room, guided by flashlight. "You two sticking it out until morning?"

Olivia simply nods and I sigh. "The crap car I have probably wouldn't last in this weather - I probably wouldn't get around the block - so I'm staying."

"One of the squad cars out is going to make a food run, if it can, so you might have a chance of getting something to eat," he comments before stepping back into his office sanctuary.

"You know, we could always eat what's in the fridge if worst comes to worst," I comment, earning an eye-roll from Olivia.

"John, I don't think there's anything in there besides Palmieri's month-old sandwich and that carton of cream Briscoe bought last year," she points out.

"That's still there? All right then. Fridge is a negative," I answer, hearing her chuckle. "There is a new carton of milk in there, though."

"Which will probably spoil before we get power back," she replies. "Jeez, I pity the unis tonight. Wouldn't be out there if you offered me danger pay."

"Which simply means you're sane, Benson, dear," I answer and she openly laughs for the first time in a while. "Hey, Liv?"

"Hmm?"

"Since we're probably not going be out of here before morning, do you want your gift now?"

"John..." she protests, shaking her head. "You didn't need to get me anything - I know you don't..."

_I know you don't celebrate it or observe it,_ I think to myself... I can nearly rattle it off myself, having heard it so many times. "Just because I don't celebrate it - you do, don't you?"

"Yeah. I've got something for you - I wasn't really sure when to give it to you, but it's at home in my closet."

I begin digging around in my desk drawer for that wrapped box. It takes me more than a few minutes, in the dark, but I do eventually find the package I bought earlier in the month - I was in no mood to get caught up in lines with desperate men doing last minute shopping later on. "Here, Liv. Go on - open it." I pass her the package and she looks up at me.

"Open it," I persist, standing behind her.

She does, slowly, making a mess of the paper and struggling to pull the gift box open. Inside that box lies another, smaller box. She exhales, quickly and glares at me. "Is this some kind of a joke?"

"Open it," I persist again.

She opens the second box and a third and come the fourth one - she looks like she could harbor the idea of hitting me, right about now - she opens it and stares at what's inside. And then she turns around to look at me properly. "You shouldn't have," she protests. "It's too much, John. I can't..."

I bend to kiss the top of her head, not caring whether we're seen or not, anymore. "You deserved it, Liv. Believe me." I wasn't entirely comfortable with buying her jewelry, but now I'm convinced I made the right choice. The piece in question is a medium-sized amber pendant, with all it's flaws, hanging on a fine gold chain.

"Did Casey help you pick this out?" She accuses, her eyes laughing, as she picks it up to admire it.

"Did it all myself, Liv. I thought it would suit you. And it's something you can wear here, too. You like it?"

"Right now, I think I'd like anything - especially if it was a good cup of coffee," she says and I can't help but laugh, at that.

A pair of uniforms come into the squad room, stamping snow from their boots and shaking it from their heavy department-issue coats, with take-out bags in hand, interrupting the moment. "You might have just gotten your wish, Detective," one comments, as she quickly tucks her gift away, her small smile showing me her thanks.


End file.
